


All in a Day's Work

by CapriciousVanity



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Attempted Kidnapping, Blow Jobs, M/M, Minor Character Death, Porn With Plot, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-30 22:37:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3954442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapriciousVanity/pseuds/CapriciousVanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two men want Oswald's head and a new killer is on the street. With Oswald's help, Jim and Harvey catch the killer, but Oswald needs Harvey's help to catch the men who break into his home and even kidnap his mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All in a Day's Work

**Author's Note:**

> It started out as simple smut, I don't know what happened. Why did this develop a plot.  
> Anyway, I hope I got all all, or most of, the mistakes and misspellings. Yell at me if I didn't.  
> Hope you guys enjoy.

“Look, Jim’s out doing very important business and asked me to keep an eye on you here. Protect and care for you, feed you, give you plenty of water…”

“Okay, I _get it_. I’m not going to do anything rash. I’ll just sit here in my little clubhouse until he says it’s safe to roam free again. That’s the deal, right?”

“Sounds about right.”

Harvey leaned into his elbow as he watched Oswald take another drink from his martini glass. The music was loud and far on the other end of the genre spectrum than anything Mooney would approve of. But it was his club, after all. Harvey waved the bartender for a drink, muttering a ‘ _surprise me_ ’ before sitting up straighter.

“You don’t really have to sit here glued to my side, officer Bullock. You’re perfectly free to roam my night club, take a seat at any of the tables…”

The corner of Harvey’s mouth twitched a half-assed smile.

“What, you getting tired of my ugly mug? I think I’ll sit tight right here. ‘Sides, view’s a lot better here anyway.”

Oswald forced a wide smile then gulped down the rest of his drink, waiting for a refill. A ringing startled him from his mood as Harvey answered his call.

“You coming back anytime soon? … No, he’s sitting tight… Woah, hold on, you sure about this?”

Oswald peered curiously as Harvey stood up from his seat, juggling the phone and his keys as he put his jacket on.

“Be there in a bit. Sure, yeah, might as well. On the pier, got it.”

Harvey hung up and slapped Oswald’s shoulder, forcing him to spit out part of his drink.

“Come on, princess. Your carriage awaits.”

Oswald huffed, sucking in then biting his bottom lip. With a wobble to kickstart his walk, he hobbled a quick pace to keep with with Harvey and grab his sleeve.

“You haven’t told me what’s going on. I’d like to know what all this is about before I get in any car with you.”

Harvey turned around to face him, hands in pockets.

“Look, we ain’t got a whole lotta time, but trust me. Your pretty little head cost a bit of a fortune, I hear, and plenty of people, the hardened criminal type, are gunna want it if they want to _really_ call themselves badass in front of the Don.”

“So I’m just bait. You’re going to dangle me in front of these people like chum to a shark tank and _hope_ you can catch them all?!”

“Don’t worry your little tailcoat, _penguin_ , you won’t be in any real danger.”

“With the two of you and your combined luck, I highly doubt that.”

“Just get in the damn car.”

Oswald favored his left leg more than usual on this particularly cold night. Along the drive, he subconsciously squeezed his bad knee as both the chill and the humidity made it throb more than usual. He wasn’t one to give in and take pain medication, not if he could help it, anyway.

Harvey took note of it mentally before finally speaking, still driving.

“Guessing you don’t take anything for that. Hell, I’ve never seen you wear a brace, either.”

“I didn't bother.”

“No wonder you got such a bad limp. Take an ibuprofen or something, at least.”

“You’re not my doctor,” Oswald snapped, leaning into his hand, his body shrinking as he sharply looked out the window, face taught with annoyance.

“Have you even been to a doctor yet? You really need to get something for that if it hurts.”

With a squirm, Oswald placed both his hands on his knees, fingers scratching in sequence thrice as he straightened his posture. 

His eyes were closed partway through his sentence, “My medical health is none of your concern, Detective Bullock.” He spoke as if each word seethed through his teeth.

“What’s with this attitude? We may not be on great terms, cop and mobster and all, but that doesn’t mean I haven’t been exceedingly patient with you. If it wasn’t for Jim, I would have beat your ass halfway through a drink back at the club.”

“We’re here.”

Harvey made a slight tilt of his head, brushing off Oswald’s tone as they drove up to where Jim was, as well as two others – a couple desperate lowlifes hoping to make it up to Don Maroni’s side as quickly as Oswald had. Harvey turned off the car and stepped out into the dark, heavy shoes on the hard, salted wood was about the only sound, save for the ocean waves. He moved to Oswald’s side and pulled him out by the arm. The shorter man staggered on one leg for a moment, jerking his arm away from Harvey and fixing his coat before his sleeve was grabbed again.

“Keep moving, grumpy.”

They made it to Jim’s side, eying the two men before them.

Jim nodded to their general direction.

“Here he is. Now tell us what you know about the Triads in Gotham. You said they own a warehouse, closing in on Maroni’s territory.”

One of the men, dressed smartly in a gray suit, laughed as he held his hands behind his back.

“Oh, no. See, we know you two are in bed with this guy. Hand him over first, _then_ we’ll tell you.”

Harvey and Jim glanced to one another and briefly looked over Oswald, who seemed flustered and honestly frightened. Harvey begrudgingly pushed him over to the other man, dressed in ambiguous layers of black. He held a gun to Oswald’s head. Harvey swallowed, but he was nowhere near as nervous as Oswald looked. He looked to Jim, hopeful.

“Well?”

“Look, it isn’t the Triads. It’s someone else.”

“Someone else?”

“Yeah. And when I say someone, I really mean it’s _one_ person doing all this shit. On their own. Never seen ‘em, not without a mask, anyway.”

Harvey stepped forward.

“What kind of mask. Hockey? Party mask? Halloween mask?”

The two men looked between each other. The one holding Oswald was next to speak.

“No… A person. Like… they cut their face off and stapled it to their own.”

Jim and Harvey were equally horrified.

“Fucking – Just _stapled_?”

“You sure?” Jim asked, wanting – needing – affirmation.

They all nodded. Harvey and Jim relaxed their gait.

“Thanks…”

As the two men turned around, taking their new prize bounty with them, Harvey shot the one in the leg. He immediately released Oswald, who then drew his own gun to shoot at the others.

“Shit… Get back in the car, now!”

Jim dragged Oswald to the car as Harvey shot at the other two men. They all fell into the car with Jim at the wheel. Tires screeched as he drove and turned the thing around as quick as he could. They eventually made it back through the blur of Gotham’s lights to Oswald’s night club. The car slowed in front of the neon umbrella sign as the three huffed, bringing themselves down from the exhilaration.

Harvey began to laugh to himself.

“Running away from a fight? Since when do you ever do that?”

Jim sighed, “We might not have their names, but we do have witnesses along the pier.”

“Witnesses?” Oswald asked from the back seat.

“Homeless. Everyone always ignores them, pretend they don’t exist.”

“Smart move,” commented Harvey.

Oswald sank back into the seat, ignoring a childish name from Harvey before stepping out of the car, nearly tripping on his bad leg. Harvey stepped out of the passenger seat, whispering to Jim who simply nodded back. Harvey’s hand touched Oswald’s back. He jumped at first and swatted Harvey’s hand away.

“I can walk myself,” he snapped.

Harvey grabbed him by the sleeve to drag him and push him against the large glass window, his clothes soaking through with the condensation.

“Look, big bird, you think you’re on top here but there is no way either of us are letting you stay here without some kind of protection. You have a number on your head, preferably dead. Any one of your own could try and kill you while you’re here. We can’t let that happen.”

Oswald sneered, “ _I’m touched_ ,” and fixed his jacket. He lead Harvey inside, glancing as Jim left the two of them.

“We could always put you in a cell, but we haven’t cleaned up our own department yet.”

Oswald idly touched his hand against a red velvet lining as he walked inside his own club.

“You know I don’t _live_ here, right?”

“Then you better show me so we can keep an eye on you.”

“No one knows. No one should know.”

“Then why don’t we keep it that way and you take up a couch here or something. And don’t worry about little old me.”

Oswald sat at the bar, head low as he chewed on his lip, drumming his fingers agitatedly. Harvey fixed his trenchcoat and sat beside him.

“What? Pouting? At least have a drink.”

“It’s _my_ bar.”

“And?”

Harvey moved behind the bar to pick out a glass and pour a drink for Oswald.

“I pitch you for a gin person,” he muttered as he made his way around the bar. He handed the glass to Oswald who groaned, his arms stretching out in front of himself before he sat up and took the glass. He swirled the clear liquid in the red-tinted glass.

“Just drink it, will you?” Harvey pressed, leaning on the bar. Oswald gave in and took a drink.

“I’ve been nothing but civil with you, Cobblepot. The least you could do is appreciate that.”

Oswald set down his drink and sat up straight, nodding his head.

“I suppose you’re right. I’m sorry, I am.”

Harvey crossed his arms, brow furrowed.

“With you, I can’t tell if you’re being sincere or not. Most of the time, I just assume you’re not.”

Oswald placed his hand on his chest in a melodramatic fashion.

“My apologies _are_ sincere. My intentions may not always come across as such, however. But trust me, I _am_ sorry for my… Attitude.”

Harvey nodded, hand wiping his beard as he considered whether or not Oswald was _actually_ being sincere. He shrugged and looked through the shelves.

He picked out a colored bottled and opened the cork, taking a sniff. He took another bottle and did the same. Twice more he did and Oswald called out, “What _are_ you doing?”

“This shit’s water. Most of it, anyway.”

Oswald slumped his shoulders. “Yeah, we need to buy more.”

“You’re serving this shit?”

“No, of course not! I’m not _that_ cheap. It’s for looks. The real stuff’s in the false wall of the bar.”

Harvey gave him an odd look and tapped the back behind the bar. He found a handle and slid it open to reveal the rest of Oswald’s drinks – there weren’t many.

He pulled out a bourbon and found himself a glass.

“So, what, I'm supposed to spend the night at my own club?" 

“Do you really want to chance it? Go home, possibly be followed… Not good for anyone. ‘Specially if you live with your mom. Speaking of, why _do_ you live with your mother?”

Oswald downed his glass before speaking.

“Well,” he started, smiling sheepishly. “Well, uh… A boy’s best friend is his mother.”

Harvey snorted.

“Really? Well, if you say so.”

“She’s the closest woman to my heart. The closest person.”

“You need a girlfriend, Cobblepot.”

“I don’t date.”

“What? Have you… _Ever_ dated? No young miss on the side here or there?”

“I’m not _that_ kind of person,” Oswald snapped.

“ _Kind of person_ , pfft. There ain’t anything wrong with having a little—”

“I don’t date!”

Harvey grinned, looking away as he saw how flustered Oswald had been getting.

“You’ve at least kissed a girl, right? And I don’t mean your mom,” Harvey teased.

“ _Sigh,_ of course I have.”

“That all you’ve ever done?”

“Of course not!”

“Touchy. How was it?”

“That’s _personal_ business.”

Harvey moved around the bar to sit beside Oswald.

“You know, I was a teenager when I had my first time with a girl. Wasn’t til the academy I had my first time with a guy, though. Both are pretty good. Not the first time, it was awkward as hell, but men and women in general, you know?”

Oswald turned away, hoping to get off the embarrassing subject.

“I can’t really count how many I’ve slept with… Men, women, whatever. I’m actually a little miffed about missing out an opportunity for a nice time at the Fox Glove, but hot _damn_ they’re into some weird ass shit. What about you?”

“I’ve… Never been to Fox Glove.”

“Man of prestige like you? But that ain’t what I’m asking.”

“Then what _are_ you asking?”

“If you can count them. Probably on one hand, yeah?”

“I… That’s none of your business!”

“Take it that’s a yes. Don’t get all defensive, I wouldn’t peg you for the type, anyway.”

“What type?”

“That _bang everything that moves_ type.”

“I don’t.”

“Obviously this isn’t a pretty subject for you. Don’t know why, though. You’re pretty enough, you could get with most people if you wanted to.”

“I haven’t really been interested…”

Oswald shifted uncomfortably before turning to Harvey, resting his arm on the bar.

“Do you… Really think I could?” Oswald smiled momentarily, trying to contain his unease.

Harvey laughed, shaking his head.

“You know, I can’t tell if you’re pretending when you act like that.”

“Like what?”

Harvey gestured in Oswald’s general direction.

“Just… _This_. Guess you’re just always…” Harvey patted Oswald’s cheek before continuing, resting his hand there. “This.”

Oswald could feel his fingers move behind his ear to the back of his head and touch his hair. Oswald reacted immediately, leaning close only to feel Harvey push his chest gently.

“Woah, hold on there. Don’t move too fast, bird boy. Just… Sit and enjoy it for a moment.”

Harvey placed his hand back to Oswald’s cheek, fingers still behind his ear. Oswald sat slightly back and leaned into the touch.

“Put your hand on top of mine…”

Oswald did so and instinctively laced his fingers, bringing Harvey’s hand to his lips.

“You know, you gotta be careful, Cobblepot. What you just tried tells me you could be easy. Luckily, I actually have a shred of decency in me.”

Oswald knitted his eyebrows together.

“You sleep with random women all the time! I know you do! Some of them work for me!”

Harvey pulled away, holding his hand up, switching between open palm and pointing.

“Woah, woah… Woah. No one said _anything_ about sleeping with anyone. Jesus, Oswald.”

Flush in the face, Oswald forced a smile.

“I’m sorry, I, uh… I suppose I’m not the best at reading people.”

“Oh, no, you read me just fine, but that’s a little fast. Besides, doesn’t it bother you?”

“Doesn’t what bother me?”

“Hell, I don’t – You’re a goddamn murderer, under _both_ Maroni’s _and_ Falcone’s watch, Jim and I are both cops, _and_ I almost killed you.”

“Would you? If you were given the chance instead of Jim, the same deal to kill me right now… Would you?”

“Yeah, actually. And that’s what scares me.”

“That you’re not a perfect cop in a pristine city where the only crime is stealing an old lady’s purse.”

“Yeah. Something like that. I’m dirty, I’ve done shit no one should ever do or have to, and I cooperate with criminals if they have even the slightest advantage over me. I’m not perfect.”

“No one is.”

“Yeah… Except good old Jim, I guess.”

“Hmm… No. He’s a good man, a very good man... But that’s his biggest flaw, isn’t it?”

Harvey nodded quietly, finishing his glass and poured himself another. Oswald took the bottle after him and refilled his own glass.

“So, what, are we just supposed to stay here until Jim comes back?”

“Or calls.”

“And I can’t go home…”

“Nope.”

The Penguin stood and left his glass, moving to leave.

“I’m going to my office…”

“And do what? Sulk?”

“Why? Are you going to trail me there, too?”

“Depends. You inviting me?”

Oswald stopped for a moment, turning to look back at Harvey.

“I… Can’t tell if you’re joking,” he said slowly, apprehensive.

Harvey rubbed the back of his neck, unsure how to answer.

“Alright, fine… Since you’re obviously up for it… Where’s your office?”

Oswald took a wobbly step back.

“Uhm… I’ll show you…”

Oswald flicked the dim light on in his office. It was a neatly kept professional setting, which honestly surprised Harvey.

“My apologies. I haven’t had the chance to add the same flare to it as the rest of the place… I don’t really use this room, much, I just talk to people out in the bar.”

_Ah, so that’s why._

Harvey wondered what Penguin would even put in this room. He tried to imagine it, with a tinge of purple or faintly colored lights, but he couldn’t quite grasp what the thin, odd man was actually like. He could imagine Mooney’s touch, however, vividly with faint gold trim and smell of fine wood. He could see her in a red dress and beautifully painted nails, gold and layered, like armor, sitting in a soft desk chair while looking out the window. Harvey dwelled on the thought, infatuated with the woman for a solid moment. He respected her too much to think further of her.

“Then why did you want to come in here? You running away from little old me?”

“I… I just wanted a bit of time to myself.”

“Well, I guess I’m sorry. I can head out, leave, lock the door, give you a couple websites…”

Oswald stiffened and Harvey laughed. He swore Oswald’s hair ruffled like feathers.

“I’m just kidding, Cobblepot.”

“If you’re going to recommend anything, you could always just show me yourself,” he quipped.

Oswald made his way to his chair, turning to Harvey, who failed to contain a grin.

“As much as I appreciate it, and as much as I like senseless flirting, I don’t think I could do that to you, Cobblepot.”

“ _Oswald_ is perfectly fine.”

“My point stands, Ozzy.”

Penguin huffed, “Oswald, or nothing.”

“Fine, fine. No fun allowed.”

“Oh, I think there can be a _little_ fun.”

Harvey sucked in his lips and moved to Penguin’s side, sitting on the desk.

“I gotta ask… Do you _really_ want to? Honest to god, swear to the Don, whatever it is your kind does.”

Oswald hesitated and Harvey stood.

“See? I’m not—”

“No, wait. I… I’ve just…”

“Alright, how about this. You unzip and we’ll take it from there. But if you so much as squeak something unhappy, I’m out.”

“R-right. Got it. I, uhm…”

Harvey rolled the chair back, startling Oswald. The detective knelt and parted Oswald’s knees, palming his bad one.

“I know that as a tiny guy, you like to sit up all high-and-mighty, but, uh.. Could you lower that chair? Be hard to reach and all.”

“Oh, y-yeah, sorry.”

Oswald adjusted his desk chair and tried to undo his belt, but Harvey took his hands and placed them on the armrests.

“You just sit back and look pretty, got it gorgeous?”

“Right. Got it.”

“You’re still uptight, there. Relax, Oswald.”

Harvey let his coarse fingers move over Oswald’s crotch, teasing him before nimbly undoing his belt. His hands rubbed Oswald through the dark cloth of his trousers. Tentatively, Harvey paused for a moment, remembering his hat and removed it, setting it on the desk and running his fingers through his earth-brown hair. Unzipping Oswald’s trousers, he palmed the growing tent in his underthings. The slim man tensed at the touch and Harvey paused once more.

“Now, just because you’re named after a bird doesn’t mean you gotta bristle like one. Relax, Oswald… Deep breath, that’s it.”

Penguin’s eyes fluttered for a moment as he breathed. He gave a faint, though teasing smile.

“Hmm, I had no idea you could be this... _Nurturing_ , Detective Bullock.”

“When I’m on my knees between your thighs, you don’t have to call me that. _Harvey’s_ just fine. Hell, you can call me anything you want at this point, precious.”

“Like what you’ve been doing with me so far?"

"Yeah. Something like that."

The corner of Harvey’s mouth twitched into a smile before he pulled Oswald’s half-hard prick from his black pants. Harvey stroked him gently, his lips touching along the underside of Oswald’ cock. His hand gripped just below the head, pulling down his foreskin to reveal his red tip. Oswald’s fingers twitched before he decided to dig them into Harvey’s hair, earning a baritone grunt. Harvey took the head of Oswald’s cock into his mouth, tongue flattening against it before he dove for more. His unoccupied hand moved to Penguins hip, caressing and gently squeezing him. Oswald massaged Harvey’s scalp as he tried to ease his own tension. He began to move his hips but Harvey pressed him back into the chair, though the detective’s head moved back and forth at a somewhat quicker. Oswald nearly jumped at the sound of Harvey’s phone. The man between his legs sighed and dragged himself from Oswald’s cock, being sure to let his tongue move itself over the head, making Cobblepot’s breath shudder. Harvey kept his hand tight around the man’s shaft as he answered his phone.

“Yeah? … No, we can’t, literally everyone in there will try to kill him. Yeah…”

Harvey was still talking as he pumped the hard cock in his hand. He moved the cellphone to balance on his shoulder, one hand to Oswald’s cock, and the other kneading his thigh.

“Right… See you then.”

The detective hung up the phone and stuffed it back into his pocket.

“That was Jim. He’s bringing a different car to take you to your house. Safety precaution and all.”

“Uh-huh…” Oswald’s voice was a slight tone higher, his hand moving back to the armrest.

“Oh, and, uh… That killer, taking people's faces? He's shown his ugly mug.”

“What’s that’s supposed to mean?”

Harvey sighed, his thumb rolling over the wet tip of the man’s cock. “He’s a nasty one, ripping people to shreds. Be a matter of time before he does some goddamn Jack the Ripper bullshit… Jim wants me to talk to you, see if you can help us since we did kind of save your ass.”

“Of course.”

“That’s a good boy.”

Harvey smiled as he took in half of Oswald’s fully hard girth. Penguin's grip loosened and tightened along the edge of his armrests as he bit his lip, closed his eyes, and only just slightly arch himself away from the back of the chair. Harvey’s calloused hands stroked the inside of his thighs and along his hipline gently, giving special attentions to Oswald’s busted leg.

Quiet hums escaped the squirming man with Harvey sucking him off. The initial heat he felt from feeling as if he had overpowered Harvey faded into something completely different – simply that he was enjoying himself. The slight gyration of his hips aided in filling Harvey’s mouth. Oswald could feel the combined tickle of Harvey’s beard and breath against his own groin, covered in a shag of dark hair.

With a jerk of his hips, Oswald gripped the chair, lifting himself as he felt his stomach tighten into orgasm, Harvey’s tongue flat against his cock. His good leg hooked around Harvey as he caught his breath. Each dollop of cum Harvey caught with his tongue, pulling himself from Oswald’s prick just to take him in again and again until the man before him dug his heel into the detective’s lower back as he filled his mouth.

Harvey Bullock brought himself up, making eye contact with Penguin and swallowed, making sure Oswald would hear and see him do so, seeing him fidget with a blush. He pulled a small pack of tissues from his coat pocket to wipe his mouth and throw it in the small trash bin hidden under the desk.

“Mm, not bad, Penguin.”

Oswald sank into his chair, head rested back. With a slur, he managed, “I didn’t think…”

“Didn’t think what, beautiful?”

Oswald’s lips curled into a smile at the pet name, unsure if Harvey was joking.

“I thought… Mooney was more your type.”

Harvey wiped the sheen from his lips before standing. His back cracked as he stretched and sat on Oswald’s desk, finger idly moving a pen into place.

“Fish and I have a bit of a complicated relationship. She’s a beautiful woman, don’t get me wrong, but it’s purely business between us, mutual respect.”

“I see… Does that mean you wield no respect for me, seeing as you got on your knees and... Well, practically _degraded_ yourself—”

Harvey shook his head and held up his hand.

“No, no. _Don’t_ do that. I respect you plenty, Cobblepot. I did that because I wanted to. I got on _your_ floor, between _your_ knees, with my back against your uncomfortable desk. _And_ I swallowed.” He emphasized with a point to Oswald as he tucked in his shirt and buckled his belt. Harvey distracted himself momentarily by the flush on the man’s pale face – he was delicate, practically made of porcelain. With a glance to his twisted leg, Harvey thought for a moment, he _was_ porcelain. On the outside, at least.

A knock at the door made both of them jump, Harvey to his feet and Oswald closer to the desk. Harvey cleared his throat as Jim opened the door.

“Well?”

Harvey looked to Oswald then to Jim with a quick stroke of his beard. Before he could speak, Oswald smiled and slyly improvised, “I will consider what we have discussed. I’ll do what I can, but with that new bounty on my head, it might take a bit longer than usual.”

Jim nodded.

“Yeah, I figured… With Mooney AWOL and the fact I don’t feel like owing a mob boss any favors, felt it was best to talk with you.”

“Of course. I’ll have one of my own look into it and I will personally deliver—”

“No,” Jim interrupted. “No personal deliveries or anything. You call, leave a message, or text. We’ll come here.”

Harvey nodded, hands in the safety of his pockets before he used one to point between the two of them.

“Hey, I’ve an idea. I can come in, check up on the progress, see what our little black-and-white dug up, and relay it. No phone calls, no trace, no evidence, you know.”

Oswald nodded vigorously in agreement and for a fraction of a moment, Jim suspected… Something. He brushed it off as paranoia but backtracked.

“You don’t have something on him, do you? You’re not blackmailing my partner?”

Oswald pursed his lips and shook his head, his hand added an emphasis as well as Harvey’s denial.

“He ain’t got any dirt on me, Jimbo, don’t you worry your pretty little head. I’m doing this out of the goodness of my heart.”

Jim nodded again.

“Alright…” He waved his hand between the two of them. “You, uh… You finish up here. I’ll be in the car.”

“Sure thing.”

As Jim left, Harvey sighed deeply, arms behind his head.

“Goddamn. He ain’t stupid, Oswald.”

Cobblepot nodded briefly.

“I know, Harvey, I know.”

“And, uh… You’ll seriously look into this guy for us?”

“You have my word, Harvey. I admit, I’m no saint, but I won’t allow this… This kind of monster in my city – _our_ city.”

“ _Sigh_ , now you’re just starting to make me feel like some kind of hussie.”

“Oh, no, I didn’t mean—”

“I’m joking, Oswald. Joking.”

The Penguin gave one last nod paired with a smile as Harvey took up his hat, fixed his jacket, and headed out the door. They met with Jim who was waiting by the car.

“You sure take a long ass time.”

“Yeah, yeah. C’mon Penguin.”

Oswald hobbled behind, his umbrella in hand as his own skin felt uncomfortable to be in with the rising humidity – it was going to rain soon.

“So, where exactly do you live?” Jim asked, glancing to the back seat.

“I know where it is, Jim.”

Oswald and Jim spoke in unison, looking to Harvey.

“You do?”

“Yep, now c’mon. No time to waste, and all.”

Oswald opened his umbrella just outside the car door as he pushed himself out with a slight struggle.

“Uhm… Thank you.”

“Don’t thank us yet. You and Harvey talked about this new guy, right? See if you can find anything on him for us.”

The roaring of the rain against the umbrella made it hard to hear for Oswald, but he got the gist of it and nodded with a smile. He waved and thanked both Jim and Harvey and made his way up the stairs. He didn’t get to the door before it opened and there stood his mother, wide eyes and flustered.

“Oh, my poor boy, caught in the rain!” She fretted and Oswald shook his head.

“It’s fine, mother. It’s just a little rain and I have my umbrella – see?”

Gertrud smiled as she leaned against the doorway. She moved out of the way and gestured for Oswald to get inside. He shook the wet umbrella out the door before putting it up. He needed a bath…

As he made his way into the antique house, his mother pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“You’ve been staying out late, not coming home, not calling… My boy is being taken by a hussie!”

Oswald sighed to himself – this again? He held his mouther’s cheeks, smiling brightly and fixing her hair.

“Mother, no. No one is going to take me away from you. I haven’t been with any…” His voice trailed off, remembering the banter he had with Harvey. It was enough for Miss Kaplput to back away and yell at him again.

“See? A horrible, painted slut is taking you from me!”

Oswald snapped from his own daze and confronted his mother again, taking her hand and kissing it to calm her down.

“No, no, mother. I was with my friends. We were just… Staying out late.”

Kapelput exaggeratedly placed her hand over her chest; Oswald’s melodrama was definitely genetic.

“Friends? More friends? I’m so proud of you!” She hugged her son tightly and riddled his cheek with kisses. Oswald, embarrassed but happy, wriggled from her grasp and laughed.

“I’m going to take a bath, now. It’s been raining at my club and my friends and I got wet.”

His mother nodded as he left her in the walkway, stepping through the surprisingly cluttered house. She’s accumulated many antiques over the years and seemed to cling to them greatly, but nowhere near as much as she clung to Oswald.

In the tall, very old tub, Oswald sighed as he sank into the water, trying not to think about Harvey, but ended up doing so anyway. With the faintest twitch in his cock, he tried to think of something else. The pain in his leg began to subside in the heat of the water, letting calm relief sway over him. He hadn’t felt this soothed in ages.

Oswald cocooned himself in warm blankets in his own bed, his mother having gone to sleep some time ago. It wouldn’t last, however, as glass shattering jolted him from his bed. He reached under his pillow for a gun and checked its ammunition. Cocking it, he left the warmth of his bed in simple pyjamas to peek out his room. Two hooded men heading straight for his mother’s room.

In a blind rage, he aimed first before yelling, “Don’t go near my mother!” and shot at the two of them. Miss Kapelput made a scream in background.

“Mother, stay inside! There are bad men trying to hurt us!”

Gertrud’s voice was muffled behind a door and Oswald repeated himself.

“Mother! Don’t leave your room!”

He hid behind his own white door, peeking over the edge. He didn’t see either of the two hooded men. He limped over to where he heard glass break. Of course it was the window… He looked out the window to see a car speed off in a screech. He squinted, the light of the street flickered just enough for the license plate to be obscured. He cursed to himself.

He dug through his things to find his phone and immediately call Jim. His groggy voice answered, “What do you want, Penguin..?”

“Two men broke into my mother’s house. How did Harvey find out? I _need_ to know!”

Miss Kapelput was still talking through the door of her room.

“Stay inside, mother!”

“Jesus… Is she alright?”

“Yes, I… I saw the them drive off but I didn’t get any faces or plates… How did Harvey find out?”

He heard Jim groan.

“I’ll text you his number, ask him yourself. Do you need anyone there?”

“No… We’ll get ourselves together. But I’m going to need a new place to live.”

Oswald hung up before Jim could protest and waited less than a minute for Harvey’s number.

As soon as Harvey answered, the man didn’t give him time to talk.

“How did you find my house? Who told you?”

Harvey sensed the panic in his voice.

“Woah, slow down. Wasn’t too hard, I guess, beat the shit out of one of your guys. Michael something. Why? Something happen?”

“Two men just _attacked_ my mother! I need a new house, I _cannot_ put my mother in danger like this!”

“ _Shit_ … Alright, I can give you a temporary place til we find you a better one. You gotta seriously find better employees.”

“ _You_ need to stop beating the _shit_ out of them!!”

Oswald’s voice nearly cracked and his mother scolded him for his language from the other side of the door. He covered the phone and called back, calmly, “I’m sorry, mother. I shouldn’t have used such terrible language.”

Harvey was taken back; he's never heard the man curse. Understanding the seriousness of the situation, he didn't joke about it, either. 

“Look, Oswald... I’m sorry that happened to you both. I’ll head down and we’ll take your mother to a safe place.”

“And after, we’re going to find my snitch and I’m going to put a bullet in his head.”

“No problemo. See you in thirty.”

Oswald hung up and slowly walked to his mother’s door to open it carefully. He was nearly tackeled by the woman who squeezed him into a tight hug.

“It’s alright, mother, it’ll be okay. Bad men tried to hurt you. Hurt me.”

“Why would they do such a thing? _Gasp_ , it’s because they’re jealous, isn’t it? Jealous of my son’s beautiful little night club.”

Oswald smiled faintly at his mother’s ignorance.

“Yes, mother. Exactly. We have to go somewhere safe. My friends will take care of us, okay?”

Gertrud nodded continually as she clung to her son, who stroked her muted, tussled hair. Oswald glanced to the broken window as he heard another car pull up. He pushed his mother gently away from himself.

“That’s my friend. Pack up some clothes.”

Gertrud smiled and touched Oswald’s cheek. He unlocked the door and let Harvey in, who only briefly greeted him before moving to the broken glass. He looked to the other side of the room and stepped over, fingers brushing bullet holes.

“I take it this was yours?”

“Yes. They went for my mother’s room, so I had to take drastic measure. Uhm… If you don’t mind, I’m going to pack some clothes.”

“Go for it.”

As both Gertrud and Oswald packed, Harvey searched the room for any sign as to who specifically would want to do this. He didn’t see anything left behind and silently hoped that it was just a regular burglary.

Harvey took Gertrud’s impossibly large bag for her and somehow managed it to fit in the trunk. When he saw Oswald’s large bag, he thought to himself that he had never seen him wear anything but suits. He wondered if he had anything else.

“Alright, there’s a place about an hour from here, nice set up, antique-y. You’ll be staying there until we can get you better situated.”

“We’re moving? For good? But we’ve lived in that house—”

“A couple years, mother. I know you don’t like moving, but we have to, and it’s not like we’ve lived in _that_ house all our lives, right?”

Gertrud sighed but agreed with her son. Oswald took his bag in the back seat with him, allowing his mother to sit in front by Harvey.

“How _did_ you get this place on short notice? _Split second_ notice, even?”

“GCPD’s dirty and I got dirt on a guy who’s got dirt on another. Don’t worry, you’ll be safe, Miss Cobblepot.”

“Oh, Kapelput, please.”

“Miss Kapelput.”

They arrived to a small neighborhood of well-kept storybook houses, one of which was painted a tinge of blue with gray that seemed almost black in the night. Gertrud marveled at the look and Oswald commented that he was surprised to see such a nice little place in the midst of Gotham’s dark blanket. Harvey removed his hat, holding onto it in one hand as he helped Gertrud out of the car.

“Yeah, it sure is nice. Most of the neighbors are retired old ladies and a couple war vets. She’ll fit in fine around here.”

Harvey pulled the keys from his pocket and gave them to Gertrud. She excitedly mumbled about how nice the house looked as she went off ahead. Harvey took up her bag from the trunk and Oswald followed suit.

“And… This is temporary?” Oswald asked.

“Well, if you don’t like it, I’m sure I can beat a couple things out of the guy who gave me the keys.”

Cobblepot chuckled, “Well, as much as I’d like to imagine that scenario, I think my mother would enjoy staying here.”

“Good to know. Still wanna find that guy who gave me your address?.”

“I'll leave it to you, actually. Mother and I have had our fill of adventure tonight.”

“Just don’t be giving your address out to just anybody.”

“Got it. Thank you, Harvey.”

“Does this mean you owe _me_ a favor?” Harvey clapped his shoulder on Oswald’s back.

With a near-forced smile, Penguin quipped, “Well, uh, that would depend on the favor, I suppose.”

Harvey faced the smaller man, leaning close enough for their noses to brush. He took quiet amusement in the way Oswald shrunk, or how his smile faded into something more anticipatory. Harvey unexpectedly pulled away and replaced his hat on his head.

“Good to know,” was all he said, leaving Oswald standing in the middle of the sidewalk, perplexed. He jumped when the car engine revved and drove off.

Harvey and Jim came to visit Penguin later in the week, at his nightclub, just after dark.

Harvey took off his hat as he entered the night club, a small crowd dressed in variant alternative styles enjoyed the current entertainment. Jim wasn’t too far behind Harvey as he watched the man confront Oswald, opening his arms as if they were actually close. He gave Oswald a near-romantic peck on the lips. The three of them, for a fraction of a moment, thought of Fish, though in very different respects.

“How’s the missus, Penguin?”

“She is quite happy in her new little home, thanks to you.”

“Good, good. Well, uh, Jim here and I wanted to ask on that progress. Find anything on our guy?”

“Yes, actually! His victims have all been women, not all the same age, however. Two bludgeoned, another beaten and _then_ bludgeoned. He just likes to see them bloodied, a true psycho.”

Jim crossed his arms, piping up, “You sound like you admire this guy.”

“Well, when you return to your own crime scene during an investigation and steal the earrings off the dead woman’s corpse, that’s impressive. Or sloppy, on your part.”

Jim scowled at the comment, but let Oswald talk.

“I took the liberty of looking through reports for any distinguishing features, hair, tattoos, that kind of stuff. Got a description from a friend of a victim who saw the man.”

Harvey put his hand on Oswald’s back, leading him to a seat where the two of them sat, soon to be joined by Jim.

“You know, this almost sounds like another Ogre case.”

“Almost. At least the Ogre was clean about his work. This guy… He’s messy.”

“So, you got a description.”

“Part of one. But I got something even better.”

“Yeah, and what’s that?” Jim chimed.

Oswald leaned closer to the table, hands linked with a bright grin.

“His next victim.”

Oswald opened his jacket to pull a folded photo from his pocket.

“If you can catch up with her, I can guarantee you’ll find your killer.”

“How in the Hell..?”

“Sorry, Detective Bullock, but I can’t tell you much more than that.”

Jim stood and smoothed his jacket. “Great. Well, thanks. We’ll get right on it.”

“Actually, Jim, you go on ahead. I still got business with this guy.”

“You want me to wait?”

“Nah, I know you’re jonesin to go about this. I’ll catch a cab, meet you at the station.”

Jim glanced to Oswald who just happily smiled. He nodded, muttering _alright_ and left.

“Your mom doing okay?”

“She’s fine, thank you.”

“She go out much? She seems a little cooped up.”

“Sometimes, but not often. Not without me, anyway.”

“I think I could get a couple guys to take her to a nice dinner. Get her out while you get the rest of your stuff in.”

Penguin gave him a toothy, if not embarrassed, smile.

“Oh?”

“Mhm… I’ll even help you unpack.”

“I’ll let her know. Maybe you should go catch up with Jim, however, I’m sure he’s waiting for you back at the office.”

Harvey squeezed Oswald’s shoulder as he helped himself stand.

“Yeah, guess you’re right. You let me know when the old woman wants to get a little air.” He pointed at Oswald as he spoke, stepping backwards before turning and giving him a brief wave.

“Oh, I will. Thank you, again.”

Harvey met with Jim at the station, being given a sealed manila envelope.

“What’s this?”

“Penguin’s favor,” replied Jim.

As they sat across from one another, with Harvey drinking mug after mug of coffee, he noticed Jim kept glancing to him, as if expecting an explanation. Harvey, annoyed, looked back to him.

“What?”

Jim shook his head, “No, nothing.”

“What is it, Jim.”

“Just didn’t take you for the type, I guess.”

Harvey straightened himself in the seat, crossing his arms,

“And what’s that supposed to mean.”

“Hey, I’ve got no problem with it,” Jim teased.

“Jesus, Jim. It’s purely a business relationship. I had the same thing going on with Fish.”

Jim nodded.

“Oh, no, I don’t doubt that.”

“Am I detecting sarcasm? From stiff old Jim?”

“Me? Sarcastic?” Jim laughed. “Just one thing…”

“What is it?”

He glanced to Harvey with a stupid smile.

“It's just… Really? _Penguin_?”

Harvey sighed coarsely, fixing his jacket.

“Back to work. Asshole.”

“Just asking.” Jim couldn’t contain his lighthearted laugh at Harvey’s defensive attitude.

“Yeah, sure.”

Oswald paid close attention to the news that night, even had a few ears and eyes around the streets. Jim and Harvey got into a scuffle, but it was surprisingly nothing too bad. They caught the man in the midst of beating the poor young woman. She was taken to the hospital, as well as the man beating her. While the media didn’t say who did it, Oswald was personally informed it was Harvey who kicked him half to death. He was surprised for a moment, but then he remembered this was the same man who beat him and stuffed him the trunk of a car, ready to be killed.

He did, however, call Harvey the next day, informing him of his mother’s willingness for a night out.

“That’s good. I’ll have a couple guys go down to get her.”

“And some of my own.”

“No problem. She’ll be well guarded and treated nicely for both of us.”

“You know, Harvey… If she comes home with the slightest complaint, I _will_ hurt you. I may not be the one to do it, but I’m putting her safety in your hands.”

“Course you are. That's why I got a couple cops undercover to keep an eye on her.”

Oswald raised a brow at the word.

“Undercover?”

“Heh, yeah. They think so, anyway. Told ‘em she was important for a case.”

“Almost as good of a liar as I am.”

“You gotta be when you live in _this_ city. I’ll head down, too. Do some helping and all.”

“Thank you, Harvey.”

They both hung up their phones and Oswald sat back into his chair. He heard his mother’s voice as she came into his room.

“Oh, what a beautiful house!”

“I’m so glad you like it, mother.”

Cobblepot had his own employees bring boxes and his other things into the new house. They thinned out and eventually left on his orders as his mother threw a fuss over what dress to wear. He insisted she looked good in anything before she finally gave him a tight hug and went off with Harvey’s guys. The sun was beginning to set and the lights of Gotham were glittering in the distance.

Harvey drove in. He hobbled to the car by the road to greet him.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

Oswald took a moment to try and not be flustered.

“You keep calling me names, and I’m somewhat embarrassed to admit I can’t tell if you mean them or not.”

“One hundred percent serious,” Harvey answered, hand across Oswald’s back as they headed inside.

“Looks like you’re doing good unpacking.”

“I was hoping to have a little break, actually. Would you like a drink?”

“What kind of question is that? And here I thought you knew me.”

The other laughed at Harvey’s fake hurt as he led him into the living room.

“Hmm. I think I have Brandy and a small collection of red and rose wines.”

“Let’s make it fancy, how about some of the pink stuff?”

With another short laugh, Oswald nodded.

“Any particular kind?”

“I’m sure they’re all hard to pronounce.”

“Ahah, I suppose you’d enjoy something from Provence.”

“Why not.”

Harvey looked around the room, glancing at the boxes yet to be unpacked and the two coat racks, one full. He shed his own coat, hanging it up with his hat as Oswald caught up with him, handing him a cool glass and taking a sip from his own. Harvey swirled it with a quick sniff.

“Aren’t you supposed to have some sort of fruity dessert with this kind of stuff?”

“Hmm, I’m sure my mother would know. She’s rather well-versed in what to drink for which occasion, and with what type of food.”

“Yeah… Never understood more than champagne for New Years and red on a date.”

Oswald gesture with his hand to lead Harvey to the brocade-upholstered chairs. As Oswald sat, Harvey brought a stool close by to sit on himself, taking Oswald’s leg into his lap. Oswald stiffened for a moment before relaxing.

“Don’t need to be all jumpy.”

Harvey’s hands working his fingers with just enough pressure into Oswald’s Achilles. The Penguin sank back against his chair with a blissful sigh.

“Hmm, do you always treat your… Consorts so well?” He asked, taking another drink of his glass.

“How else do you think I keep track of every classy lady in Gotham?”

“Every?”

“Well... Not _every_.”

Harvey kneaded his fingers into Oswald’s ankle, soliciting a hiss and mild jerk.

“Hey, stay still…”

Oswald grabbed his own knee as waves of dull pain moved through his leg.

“Relax, bird boy. It’ll only hurt for a second.”

“You know… This almost reminds me of when Fish asked me to rub her feet.”

“I’m guessing it wasn’t foreplay.”

“Well, no… She called me a snitch and proceeded to beat me with a chair leg.”

Harvey faltered as he removed Oswald’s shoes. He was careful in rolling his socks, seeing the never-quite-healed bruise on his right leg.

“And… That’s when this happened…” Oswald vaguely gestured to his leg and bent ankle before continuing, “And then _you_ kidnapped me, tied me up, threw me in the trunk of your car – on a _really_ bumpy ride, mind you – and made Jim try to kill me.”

Harvey pulled back Oswald’s pant leg, kissing halfway up his calf, trying to ignore Oswald’s accusatory tone. It didn’t work; Penguin leaned into his hand, somewhat annoyed.

“Would you still do it?”

“Do what?”

“Kill me. If your very life depended on it, if Falcone was going to kill Jim, or Fish, or someone else… Would you shoot me?”

Harvey sat up straight on the stool, smoothing Oswald’s trousers before moving to trap him against his own chair. He examined Penguin’s pale face, the studious look in his eyes, even the slight fray at the ends of his bangs.

With a hesitant lick of his lips, he finally said, “Yeah. I would.” It was quiet, almost like he didn’t want to believe it, but they both knew he would.

Oswald took hold of Harvey’s tie, fighting between defiance and hurt. He tugged him closer, noses almost touching as he lingered there. He felt Harvey’s hand on his cheek with the faintest touch – thumb under his eye, fingers at the shell of his ear. It was surprisingly intimate. Their lips just barely grazed, fuzzy beard ticklish against Oswald’s smooth face. His light eyes fluttered, overtaken by the gesture.

“You know, when you just sit there and stare dreamily at my handsome visage, that’s not technically saying ‘yes.’ Ain’t proper reciprocation, and if you’re not going to give me something to go off of, then I can take my little butt out of your hair.”

The other man stuttered, “N-no, no, n-no. No. I, uhm…” He grinned awkwardly. “I…”

Harvey traced the frame of his face, fingers landing just under his chin.

“Just say ‘yes.’ Or ‘no,’ that’s an option, too.”

“Yes,” Oswald breathed.

Harvey pressed their lips together, coarse hand at the back of Oswald’s head, digging into his soft, pitch black hair. The flavor of rose wine lingered between them. Their shared kisses were peaceful and slow at first, but Harvey was the first to push for deeper, louder kisses, being rewarded with Oswald’s quiet noises. He broke their kiss to finish his glass of wine and set it on the table beside them.

He brushed back stray, sharp strands of bangs from Oswald’s face to kiss him. Oswald’s hands gripped his biceps before unsteady hands moved to his thighs. Harvey made a small noise before pulling apart, only to have Oswald ravish his throat. Harvey closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before gently pushing against Oswald’s chest.

“Hold up, bird boy. Got a couple questions…”

Harvey’s voice was lower than usual, only by a bit, but Oswald noticed it as he tore himself from Harvey’s neck.

“Hm, what?”

Warm hands grasped his face, one brushing his bangs into place again. It made him smile sweetly.

“Top or bottom?”

His smile faded into a not-quite scowl, taken back by the question.

“I… What?”

“Top or bottom, precious.”

“Uhm… Top.”

“Ride or frot?”

Oswald blinked a few times, still abashed by the question.

“…What?”

Harvey gently shook Oswald’s face.

“Kay, look. You wanna sit on it and ride it, or do you wanna push our junk together and see what happens?”

Oswald snorted a laugh at Harvey’s choice of words. His peculiar jargon was always entertaining.

“Uhm… Let’s, uh… Let’s see what happens.”

“You got it, baby bird.”

He kissed Oswald again, hands holding his soft-skinned face still. Oswald’s nervous hands slid down Harvey’s sides before moving to his own garments, removing his jacket. He broke their kiss just to set it nicely on the chair.

“Why bother?” asked Harvey with a snort.

“Unlike some people, I actually take care of my clothes.”

“So, just ripping this thing off—” Harvey slid his finger into the collar of Oswald’s vest. “Would get your feathers all ruffled, I take it?”

Suddenly, he grabbed a fistful of Oswald’s vest and shirt, lifting him a few inches higher, making him nearly stand on his toes. A spark of fear in Penguin’s eyes slowly turned to relief when Harvey did nothing further.

“Yes, it would, actually.” His voice was stern, letting Harvey know he was serious.

“Hmm, too bad.”

Nimbly, Harvey unbuttoned the vest and slid it from his shoulders, folding it neatly before setting it on top of the dark coat. As Oswald touched his neck tie, Harvey stopped him, taking his hands and planting a soft kiss to them.

“You know, I actually like that little thing. No one wears that kind anymore, pretty classy.”

“Well, if I’m to wear mine, then I guess you’ll have to wear yours.”

Harvey nearly grinned as he undid his own shirt, loosening his tie, but not removing it. He let the shirt fall to the floor.

“You got it.”

Oswald untucked and unbuttoned, fighting with the stiff collar to slide under his continental tie. Harvey tapped the small pearl tack after he fixed it.

“Considering it’s you, I gotta ask. That real?”

“Of course it is.”

“I bet you’re the type to match cuff links, too.”

“I don’t have a pearl set, but now that you mention it…”

“Man, you’re spoiled.”

Oswald took tight hold of Harvey’s long necktie, wrapping it around his hand to pull him slightly.

“What are you going to do about it?”

He was pulled roughly against Harvey’s wide body, a hand at his ass squeezing possessively with Harvey’s coarse beard resting at his nape.

“What else? Spoil you some more.”

His eyes fluttered at the warm breath against his skin.

“You wanna take this somewhere else, Snow White?”

“Mm… Snow White?”

“You’re pale… Dark hair… Nice pink lips…” Harvey brushed their noses close, the faintest dust of pink across Oswald's cheeks.

"Oh, is that all?"

“You just fishing for compliments, now.”

“Oh-ho, you know my master plan.”

“That how you’ll take over Gotham? Good looks and a wicked smile?”

“Of course.”

Harvey let his hands wander down Oswald’s back to cup his ass and lift him from the ground. The smaller man yelped, making Harvey chuckle to himself before kissing him.

“Don’t you trust me?”

“A-as they say… As far as you could throw me.”

“I’m feeling I can throw you pretty far. And toss and turn you, too.”

He kissed along Oswald’s throat, a few small nibbles to his Adam’s apple.

“Mm, lighten up that grip. I got you, blue jay.”

Oswald’s tight grip around Harvey’s neck moved to hold his head as he crushed their lips into a tongue-filled kiss.

“Getting sloppy now,” Harvey teased.

Oswald sucked in a breath shared with the detective. Harvey found a plush stool to sit as Oswald stretched his legs out behind him. Lifting him up higher, Harvey’s lips trailed down Oswald’s smooth chest – he had hardly any muscle tone. He felt like he could break him at any moment if he wanted to. As he kissed and dragged his tongue along Cobblepot’s skin, he felt hands tightly clutch his hair, encouraging him further. Harvey’s own rough hands rubbed into the small of Oswald’s back as he moved to kiss him deeply again and again, lips lingering to Oswald’s jaw and down his throat before meeting his succulent lips. Oswald, feeling more brazen, slid his hands past Harvey’s waistband, fingers digging into the line at his hips.

Harvey rolled his hips up into the other man’s groin, making him grunt quietly.

Fingers tangled in one another’s hair, Harvey managed to break away from Oswald’s persistent mouth to ask, “You got a bedroom somewhere?”

Oswald caught his breath, face flush and somewhat dazed before he registered what Harvey had said. He nodded, shaky, before moving from the man’s lap, suddenly aware of how hard he had gotten from their escapade.

 

Harvey took Oswald’s wine glass and finished it for himself before he felt his hand being tugged. He followed Oswald, who held their clothes, into his bedroom. The inside of the room might as well been straight out of a fairy tale – suppose that’s why they’re called storybook houses. The wallpaper was vintage, the sheets were floral, and everything about the room was vintage from the daybed, to the lacetrim curtains, to the pale pink-and-white bergère.

“This really your room?”

“Well, we haven’t redecorated it just yet, but yes. It will eventually be my room, though the décor is something more fit for my mother.”

“Tch, I’ll say. You feel right getting in your birthday suit and doing a little dance on your soon-to-be-mother’s furniture? Or bed?”

Oswald dropped the clothes on the pale pink chair and made sure the door was shut and curtains drawn.

“You always take this long?”

Oswald stopped what he was doing in the middle of the room to stare at Harvey. After a few seconds, he smiled.

“Impatient?”

“Starting to get there.”

He hobbled to Harvey once more, hands gentle at his forearms before moving to his hands slowly, tugging him closer.

“And here I thought you wanted to be on top,” Harvey’s sanguine voice felt like silk at that moment.

“You stalling?” He asked, waiting for Oswald.

“A little…”

Harvey unbuckled his belt, glancing to Oswald as he slid it from the loops to drop on the floor. Thumbs in the loops, he approached the smaller man to peck his lips. Oswald followed, undoing his belt and dropping his trousers to the floor. Harvey moved past him to slide on the bed.

“You wanna be on top?” Harvey laid back against his elbows and slightly patted his chest. “Sit on me.”

Nervous yet eager, Oswald climbed to the bed, careful with his leg as he sat atop of Harvey’s chest.

“Stretch your legs out, it’s alright.”

Harvey pulled Oswald closer. With his legs outstretched past Harvey’s head, Oswald leaned back to ease the mild, dull pain in his leg. Harvey sat up, taking hold of Oswald’s calves. He gave a faint cry of surprise as he was held upside down, head between Harvey's legs; his own legs over Harvey's shoulders. He bit his lip as a warm tongue dragged across his dark briefs, soon to be followed by his whole mouth along the line of his cock.

“Mm, you liking that, Penguin?”

Oswald took a short breath, cheeks tinged pink.

“You’ve been giving me a lot of nicknames lately. Every other sentence.”

“What can I say, I like calling you names.”

“Is that all you like?”

Harvey’s fingers carefully rolled the waistband of Oswald’s briefs.

“Course not. Kissing you was nice. Your hair’s nice and soft, ‘specially with that little puff on top.”

With an attempted roll of his hips, Oswald asked, “What else?”

“You trying to get me to talk dirty? Not sure if a classy guy like you's up for that.”

“Speaking it, no, but I would love to hear it.”

“I love taking your cock in my mouth. Wanna just drink from it ‘til you try and push me off, tossing and turning, begging me to keep going even if you want me to stop. Making you cum in my mouth and make you taste it after I kiss you.”

The softest whimper came from Oswald. Harvey used his teeth to pull his briefs further, mouth taking in his balls as he squeezed the shaft of his hard cock.

Trying to reciprocate, Oswald stuttered, “S-so you’re a… You’re a little cock slut..? Underneath all that – ah – womanizing façade, you love to suck cock.”

Harvey didn’t respond verbally; instead, he glanced to Oswald, pulling and squeezing the length of his hard prick, forcing dollops of precum to fall on his stomach. His tongue trailed along the length before he took Oswald’s dick into his mouth, moving slowly back and forth. Small gasps and mewls encouraged him to work Oswald’s cock further, holding his body closer to his face as he sucked and swallowed around him. He felt Oswald began to buck against his chin. Looking down, he saw the man’s face heated, mouth ajar with silent panting.

Harvey pulled himself from Oswald’s pink cock with a _pop_ , taking his boxer off from one leg. He ran his tongue along his inner thigh, making a trail to his balls, playing with them with his mouth, kissing, licking, and taking a cautious nip.

Oswald jumped at the toothy contact with a small ‘ _ouch.’_ Harvey didn’t do it a second time – instead, his tongue probed into his tight hole. Oswald clawed at the thick comforter, fighting between tightening around Harvey’s tongue or not. Harvey kept his hand tight around Oswald’s cock, squeezing it as droplets of liquid to fall and decorate his chest and stomach. His tongue undulated inside Cobblepot, hot, messy kisses marking him with a sheen. He pressed his whole mouth beneath his balls, sucking against his skin, making reddened marks out of sync with his hand, jacking off Oswald’s solid cock. Harvey noticed his breathing turning erratic and paused.

“Breathe through your nose,” he suggested, placing his hand against Oswald’s sweaty chest.

Oswald swallowed back, taking deep, steady breaths through his nose as instructed.

“That’s it, babe. Just like that. You like it when I’m tongue deep in your ass?”

Harvey felt Oswald’s chest convulse slightly at the question.

“Take that as a yes since you seem a little sex-drunk, right now.”

He only got a stuttered attempt to talk. Harvey pressed two fingers to Oswald’s lips to shush him, but he got the wrong message – instead, he took Harvey’s fingers into his mouth, humming around them as he sucked on them near-desperately. Harvey kissed his round ass cheeks whilst plunging his fingers into Oswald’s mouth.

“You want these next? That why you drooling all over me?”

Oswald took tight grip of Harvey’s wrist, sucking and moving his tongue between them far too eagerly, not bothering to swallow back spittle that fell from his chin. As Harvey took back his fingers, Oswald tried to take them back, failing. With a strong lick between his cheeks again, Harvey began to push his finger into his tight hole. Oswald took a deep breath and made a small noise. Harvey instead retracted and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small bottle of lube. A small pack of condoms and a pack of tissue fell out.

Out of breath and flush, Oswald asked, “Ahah, came prepared?”

“Always.”

His stomach twitched at the feeling of cool, oily fluid pouring onto his ass. Harvey’s large hands spread it across his ass and balls, making a gleaning mess. With another attempt, Harvey pressed his finger into Oswald with a bit of ease. He brought his finger back and pushed in again, as far as he could with a slow twist. He did this thrice more before pulling his finger completely out.

“You ready for the other one?”

“Just… Hurry up already.”

“Hey, don’t get all pushy. I just wanna make sure you’re comfortable—“ Harvey pressed both his fingers into him without much other warning, earning a strained sound as Oswald grit his teeth. “—And enjoying yourself.”

Oswald breath grew shaky as Harvey’s thick fingers moved inside him, occasionally joined by his warm tongue coming into contact with his hot skin. His grew mouth ajar with deeper breaths and blissful sighs, his face nudging against Harvey’s thigh. He gripped the comforter, blunt nails dragging across the stitching. Noticing, Harvey pulled his slick fingers out and slapped Oswald’s thigh, making the smaller man jump.

“Gunna put you down now,” he forewarned.

“W-wait, I’m not—”

Oswald was interrupted as Harvey sat back, letting his legs down. His hands moved to hold Penguin’s back and lift him upright; his sweaty body was now situated in Harvey’s still-clothed lap.

“Your leg doing alright?”

“It’s fine.”

“Can you bend it?”

“I… Yes, I can.”

“Good.”

Harvey laid back and patted his chest like before.

“C’mere, bird boy. Give us a pearl necklace.”

Oswald, straddling his chest with a mild strain on his leg, tilted his head slightly. The furrow of his brow told Harvey he didn’t know what he meant.

“That means jack off and put nice white drops all over my neck. Like a pretty little pearl necklace.”

Harvey undid his tie lazily, moving the ends out of the way. His hands rubbed Oswald’s thighs; he watched the man’s warm face try to process what transpired and register the request. With a nervous hand, Oswald grabbed hold of his dick and closed his eyes, taking only a few slow strokes before he hung his head back, strings of cum spurting from his sensitive cock and along Harvey’s collarbone. Unsure of what to do, Oswald slid back, allowing for Harvey to sit back up. Harvey cracked a smile as he let his tie ends drape down his shoulders, thick drops of cum still slinging to his skin. He gestured to it with his hands.

“Do I look pretty?”

Oswald snorted before he searched the bed for the tissues. He pulled one from the plastic, reaching for Harvey but hesitated. He dabbed the white droplets with one hand, the other idly caressing Harvey’s chest, covered in coarse brown-and-gray hairs. Harvey took both his hands when he finished, kissing them gently.

“Uhm… You haven’t… I haven’t…”

Harvey lifted an eyebrow to Oswald’s embarrassed words before he got what he meant, making a quiet ‘oh.’

“No need to worry about me. Tonight was all about you.”

“Uh-huh… I can’t help but wonder. What would you have done if I said _no_?”

Harvey adjusted himself, crossing his arms.

“You implying something? If you’d have said ‘no’ then I would have had a nice little glass of wine, helped you unpack a bit, and see you next time.”

“I see.”

“Don’t think too much about it, Penguin. ‘Sides, I think we still gotta unpack a bit.”

“Right.”

With a damp washcloth, Harvey cleaned himself up. He started to unpack boxes while Oswald took a brief shower. It was late into the night – Harvey figured it was closer to morning – before Oswald fell asleep in a chair and Harvey left, but not without draping a blanket over him. His mother could fuss over him whenever she got back from…

Harvey panicked. She wasn’t back yet and he was supposed to get a phone call.

“ _Shit_.”

He left Oswald where he was and got in the car to leave immediately.

He stopped by the restaurant they were supposed to be at, but it’s been closed for a few hours now. He kicked a discarded metal sheet by a dumpster as he ran through an alley to see if there was any clue to where they would have gone. The slightest thought crept in his head. Last he saw them, they were wearing suits. One of them looked familiar..

“Jesus _Christ_.”

He couldn’t bother Jim, not now, not yet. He went off on his own, driving through puddles in Gotham as fast as he could without skidding back to the pier. There he saw them, one carrying a shotgun. They both stood over a pleading, and bruised, Gertrud Kapelput. Harvey pulled his gun as they looked in the direction of his car.

One of them tried to approach him, casually waving his gun, but before he could say anything, Harvey opened fire and Gertrud screamed, ducking and covering her head. The two men took cover, one behind his own car and the other took off further, behind barrels before making it to the side of a building. Harvey ran towards one and ducked by a dumpster as soon as he saw movement, hearing the other man’s gun fire. In the split second of silence, Harvey looked over and shot right back at him, thrice, hitting him in the shoulder and then in the chest, closer to his collarbone. He fell over, hands over the bleeding wound before he grew weak. Harvey ran towards Gertrud, who’s makeup was running as she cried. She clung to Harvey, mumbling something about her son, but Harvey had no time to listen.

“Look, you gotta lay low until I’m back, okay? Just… Stay over here and I’ll be back for you. Your son’s fine.”

He didn’t let Gertrud talk as he jumped back to his feet, reloading his gun, and going after the other man. He must have gone inside one of the warehouses… Taking out his flashlight, he picked one. As he kicked the door open, he aimed his gun and flashlight left and right, ready for more fire. In a fraction of a second, he heard the cocking of the shotgun echo and immediately took shelter behind a dusty, metal table, kicking it over for cover. It screeched as it moved against the floor, and the scatter shot of the shotgun dented the surface. Harvey peeked out over the top of the table, aimed, and fired four times, three bullets hitting the fake officer before he could fire back at Harvey again. He fell back in pain and Harvey quickly leapt to his feet to go to his side and shoot him in the chest. He sighed, wiping sweat and humidity from his brow. As he stepped back outside, it was sprinkling rain. He jogged back to Gertrud, taking her arm for comfort as he helped her into his car.

The entire way she cried, asking why bad men would want to hurt her. She answered her own question, saying it was because of her son.

“Those bullies want to hurt him because they’re jealous.”

Her voice became ragged with emphasis.

Eventually, Harvey brought her back to her home, letting her inside and making her sit down. Oswald hadn’t moved from his chair, still asleep. As the detective searched for alcohol and a few cotton balls, Gertrud touched her son’s cheek, smiling and sighing.

“As long as he’s safe, bad men can hit me if they want to.”

Harvey, sitting her down as he dabbed cotton balls in alcohol, shook his head.

“I’m sorry about all this. I should have known who they were.”

Gertrud smiled.

“What happened to Oswald’s guys? I thought they were supposed to be with you.”

“Oh, they were, but they got _shot_. Bang! The man with the big gun shot them and took me. He hit me, tell me to shut up.”

Harvey nodded, listening to her as he cleaned her scratches. She had a purple bruise forming by her eye and a red mark just below her lip. Oswald isn’t going to be happy when he finds out.

“Does anyone else know you live here?”

Miss Kapelput shook her head.

“No, no one. Just me and my son. He looks so precious sleeping like that. Don’t you think?”

Harvey gave a short laugh and sat up, throwing away the cotton balls and capping the alcohol.

“I can stick around, drive by a few times, make sure everything’s alright.”

“Oh, no. No, no, you have done _so_ much, already! Go, go home and get good sleep. I will be fine with my son here.”

Harvey took a bit more convincing but eventually agreed. Gertrud hugged him and kissed his cheek before letting him go. The very minute he got inside, he found the closest flat surface, thankfully a couch, and fell asleep.

He awoke, startled by his phone ringing. Wiping drool from his mouth, he answered it.

“Yeah?”

“Harvey, Oswald’s pissed. What happened to his mom last night?”

Well, shit. Harvey groaned, sitting up.

“Look, Jim. I took care of it. A couple cops turned out to be the same guys who wanted to his head from the beginning. Kidnapped his mom, killed some of his guys, but I got them.”

“You arrested them?”

“Not really.”

“Christ, Harvey. You _killed_ them?”

“The hell was I supposed to do, Jim? They opened fire, so I fired right back. Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“Look, it’s taken care of, Owald and Missus Kapelput are safe in their cozy little home.”

Jim sighed on the other side. Harvey heard Oswald’s voice muttering in the background.

“Woah, hold up, is the little guy with you?”

“Yeah, you’re on speaker.”

“Well, make sure you listen loud and clear, Penguin. Those guys are dead, you don’t have anything else you have to worry about. A couple of your guys are dead, but the only people left who know where you live are you, your mom, and myself.”

“And what about the man with the favor?” He heard, muffled from the distance.

“He doesn’t know the house was for you, no worries.”

He heard chittering in the background between Jim and Oswald.

“Hey, don’t ignore me just cuz I ain’t there in person.”

“Sorry,” called Jim. “You did good, Harvey.”

“Yeah, thanks. Look, I’ll head on down to the DA later. Tell Oswald he owes me a drink.”

Jim laughed.

“You got it.”

Harvey sighed. All in a day’s work.

**Author's Note:**

> Sigh, so I hope this story came out pretty decent. I have yet to see any Harvey/Cobblepot (Cobbullock?) anythings and, while I love any and every ship in Gotham, I'm always up for writing rarepairs.  
> Feel free to ask for prompts on my tumblr (vanityelric.tumblr.com)


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